Strange Relations
by crackpotwriter
Summary: Severus Snape and Greg Sanders learn some rather disturbing news from Albus Dumbledore. Apparently they're related.


**Disclaimer:** I do not own the characters of this work of fiction, and no profit, monetary or otherwise is being made through the writing of this.

**A/N:** A crossover idea that popped into my head and will probably only ever be a one-shot introducing the concept of Severus Snape as Greg Sanders father.

**Warning:** Mentions rape, but not in any detail.

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><p>"You've got to be kidding me Headmaster," Severus snapped as he paced the length of Dumbledore's office.<p>

"The information comes from a reliable source," Albus spoke softly, watching his protégé pace.

"B…but have you seen him?" The Potions Master spat and whirled on the headmaster, placing his hands on the desk, leaning toward the older man. He'd spent an entire week in disguise simply watching the young man as he went about his daily business.

"I have, and I must say he's a rather remarkable young man." Albus smiled at Severus, refusing to back up, though their faces were mere inches apart.

"But, he's nothing like me," Severus lamented. He backed away from the desk and sat heavily in the chair across from his mentor. "He has no self-preservation whatsoever, his tendencies toward Gryffindor bravery would make a Weasley pale, and he's much too…" Severus searched for the right word before sneering, "happy-go-lucky."

Albus cleared his throat before speaking; knowing that the dour man across from him would not like what he was about to say, yet feeling that he must say it.

"You know, Severus." Albus waited until the other man met his gaze. "I've always said that we sorted students much too early." He held up a hand to forestall Severus' protests when the younger man opened his mouth. "Hear me out, Severus.

"Fine," Severus stated and crossed his arms over his chest. He raised a single eyebrow and nodded at the headmaster to continue.

"Who knows how you would have turned out had you been dealt a different hand like young Mr. Sanders was," he spoke softly. "Had you been raised in a different household and come into contact with different wizards," Albus paused, "things might have gone vastly different." He wished they had, but would never say that to Severus.

Severus snorted and shook his head. "The past is the past Headmaster, it cannot be changed and it does little good to dwell on it."

"Only too true my boy," Albus spoke more cheerfully than he felt.

"He looks nothing like me," Severus added.

"Perhaps he takes after his mother," Albus said, not letting his Potions Master off the hook.

"I don't even remember her, you know," Severus' words came out so softly that the Headmaster had to lean closer to hear.

"You aren't to blame for that," Albus' voice was gruff.

"Aren't I?" Severus stood and resumed pacing, glaring at the pictures of former Headmasters lining the walls. "Aren't I?" He turned his glare on Albus. "I made the decision to follow the Dark Lord. I made the decision to follow his edicts. I made the decision to," he paused to bring his emotions under control, "to rape that woman." He refused to cry in front of the Headmaster.

"Severus," Albus' voice was soft, comforting. He stood and placed a hand on Severus' shoulder, but the younger man shook it off.

"I can't face him," Severus said, putting some distance between himself and the Headmaster. "I won't. He doesn't need to know that I even exist. It would only hurt him to know that the people he grew up with aren't his real family, that he was the product of a rape orchestrated by a madman."

"Severus, I'm afraid that silence is not an option." Albus let his hand fall to his side. "Mr. Sanders," he called, "you may come in now."

Greg took a deep breath before pushing the door open and entering the strange room. He'd stood outside, waiting as he'd been asked to, and, though he'd tried not to eavesdrop, it had been impossible for him not to overhear the two men as they'd talked. He couldn't believe his ears, refused to believe what he'd heard. It couldn't be true. He was the son of the parents he grew up with, anyone could see by looking at him that he was Norwegian, not a descendant of whatever the hell this rapist was.

"It's not true," were the first words out of his mouth as he faced the two men.

"I know that this is coming as a surprise to the both of you," Albus said, "but I assure you that it _is_ true."

"I don't believe it," both men said at the same time, each turning to glare at the other.

"Believe it or not, Greg," Albus' voice was placating and calm. "Severus." He nodded toward the wizard who stood staring in open wonder at the man he refused to believe was his son.

And then a memory, completely unbidden, flooded Severus' mind and his knees buckled. He grasped the edge of Albus' desk with white knuckles as he recalled with a sinking realization, the face of the nameless woman he'd been forced to rape fifteen years ago. The kid was the spitting image of her. Greg Sanders _was_ his son.

Albus read the acceptance on the potions master's face and sighed in relief. One hurdle had been overcome, now he needed to explain things to the fifteen-year-old boy whose life was going to be drastically altered.


End file.
